


Take A Cup 'O Kindness Yet

by halfwit



Series: Seasons of Love [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst With A Happy End, Christmas fic, Dean & Benny relationship, Dean and Cas do not end up together, Homecoming, Infidelity, Last Christmas fic, Mary and John are dead, Multi, Past Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sad Dean Winchester, Wingfic, dean has wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:36:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwit/pseuds/halfwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where everyone has wings until you find your soulmate, Dean Winchester is past the age when he should have found his. When his longtime relationship ends, he finds himself at a loss. He buries himself in work, only to be dragged home for a Christmas celebration. Will the festivities dredge up bad memories, or will he finally find the one he is looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Cup 'O Kindness Yet

**Author's Note:**

> I've been away from writing for far too long. Sorry my Christmas fic this year is a little more angsty and a lot more overdue. This story popped in to my head and demanded to be written - so it is almost 4:30 in the morning when I am finishing. All mistakes are my own. This is definitely different from what I usually do, but I love doing the cheesy convention tropes, and the soulmate one is a favorite.

Dean wearily rested his forehead on the familiar leather steering wheel of his beloved Impala. It had been a grueling drive from Boston to Sioux Falls, and one he had not entirely wanted to make. In his mind, it had been too soon after his breakup to face his family again; too soon to see their pitying faces that here he was at the age of twenty-two and still hadn’t found his soulmate. Add to that, the one person he had been in a long-term relationship with had just up and left because he had found his one true love. Fate was a cruel bitch who seemed to have it out for Dean Winchester.

Lifting his head from the wheel, Dean looked up at his adopted parents’ home – the one constant in his life since his parents had died in a car crash when he was only ten, and his brother, Sam, had only been six. Bobby, his father’s best friend and closest thing to an uncle the boys ever had, was named their guardian; and wide eyed and a little afraid the young Winchesters were uprooted from the life they knew in Kansas and moved to South Dakota.

Looking at the house he had called home for most of his life, Dean felt familiar, bittersweet memories engulf him. It had taken some time for Bobby, Sam, and Dean to adjust to living together. Bobby had visited with the boys while they were growing up, but visiting for a week or two was vastly different from having primary custody. In the beginning there were lots of visits from the social workers to make sure the young boys were adjusting and that Bobby was up to the task of being a father figure.

Although he was gruff and surly on the outside, Bobby Singer had the biggest heart of just about anyone the young Winchesters had ever known. He and his late soulmate, Karen, had never been able to have children; so to be given guardianship of Sam of Dean felt like an awesome responsibility to the old mechanic, one that he struggled to find his footing with.

There had been some ups and downs, and a few visits from the local sheriff, Jody Mills; like when Sam decided when he was ten that he didn’t want to live in South Dakota anymore and he was going to run away. The pre-teen hadn’t made it far before the good sheriff picked him up and returned him to a terrified Dean and disappointed Bobby. Sheriff Jody stayed for coffee with Bobby, as his thank you for bringing Sam home safe and sound, and the pair were together most days after that, until they were able to marry and make it official. Bringing Jody into the home was good for the boys, it gave them the motherly voice and opinion they had been lacking since Mary Winchester’s untimely death. Bobby and Jody raised the boys with as much love as though they were their own children.

It was Jody who took on the task of explaining to the boys about soulmates. Bobby was from an abusive home and even though he loved Sam, Dean, and Jody, sometimes it was hard for him to get in touch with his emotions; and this was one of those times. Jody rolled her eyes and slugged her husband in the arm good naturedly. She took the boys out for ice cream and explained to them about soul mates.

“No one knows why we are like this,” she told her boys. Dean was now fifteen, on the cusp of when he should first start to feel the pull toward a soul mate, if his was around. “When we are young, around six months old, right when the first teeth are coming in, we grow wings,” Jody explained. “It is thought that once upon a time, these wings were so powerful they would be able to lift us in to the heavens and have us soar above the Earth; strong enough so we could fly wherever we wanted to go with no more than a thought.

“Over time, people stopped wanting to move around as much. The need for home and stability kept us in one place, sometimes leaving entire generations in the same community for years at a time, so our wings became weaker and less able to allow us to fly, until finally we no longer could fly at all.”

“How’s come you don’t have wings, Jody?” Sam asked, rocky road ice cream dribbling down his chin in his eagerness.

Jody smiled at him and wiped the mess with a napkin. “Because our wings, while not able to help us soar any longer, still fulfill a primary function…to help us find our soulmate.”

“Awww, c’mon Jody,” Dean groused, annoyed by what he heard Bobby refer to as “chick flick moments.” “If I wanted to hear a fairy tale, I coulda stayed home and watched a Disney movie.”

“You watch your mouth, Dean Winchester,” Jody reprimanded, smacking him lightly on the hand. “What I’m telling you is important, and you best listen to me. You more so than even Sam because you are getting to the age where you will start to feel the pull toward your soulmate.”

Dean fought the urge to complain aloud, but he didn’t want Jody to smack him again, or worse, threaten to take his ice cream away; so, the teen sat back and listened to her story.

“As I was saying,” Jody said, with a mock glare toward the oldest Winchester, “our wings still fulfill a function to help us find our soulmate. When our wings grow it, they are designed to attract our perfect mate, much like a magnet being pulled toward something made of metal. This pull can first happen when a boy or girl turns sixteen, most people find their mates within that first year; although some do not find theirs until they are twenty.

“A person can have an ordinary day, but if their soulmate walks near them, their wings will flare out and start to pull the individual along – a residual of the days when we could fly – until the two halves are brought together to be made whole. Both sets of wings then combine and tangle together, until they burst…much like a piñata being broken open, or confetti being tossed at a parade. When this union occurs, each partner’s wings disappear, leaving behind their soulmate’s initials.”

“So that’s what happened to you? To Bobby?” Sam asked, brow scrunching in thought.

“Yes,” Jody said, smile turning somewhat sad. “My wings disappeared when I met my soulmate. I was with him for five years before he was killed in combat in Iraq. Once you lose a soulmate, you never grow another pair of wings. Many people never look for another mate or spouse, choosing to be alone once they have lost their soulmates. Others, find a new kind of love, usually with someone who also has lost their soulmate, like Bobby and me. No one will ever look on our marriage as highly as one between two soulmates; but, it is a union that is respected in the courts, at least nowadays.”

“That’s stupid,” Dean remarked, feeling a little overwhelmed with everything Jody told him. “So, just because my wings decide to up and mesh with someone else’s I’m stuck with that person for the rest of my life? What if I don’t like the person? What if they don’t like me?”

“To my knowledge, there has never been a soulmate pair who have broken their bond,” Jody said, understanding her adopted son’s rebellion. “Somehow, someway, even when the pairing seems to be the most unusual, it works and the two fit like a hand in a glove.”

“Yeah, with my luck, the glove won’t be able to fit,” Dean groused, absently picking at his melting ice cream.

“You’ll understand when you find your mate, sweetheart,” Jody said, with a fond pat to Dean’s knee.

Only, Dean never found his mate. Sixteen came and went and he didn’t feel any of the pull that Jody talked about. He had some experiences with girls – and some guys – and fooled around, but no one wanted anything serious with him. Dean was just a substitute until they found their soulmates.

That all changed when he went to college. Eighteen was a new experience, he moved to Boston, went to Boston College and met his enigmatic roommate, Castiel Novak. Messy dark-brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a compact but deceptively well-built frame made Dean’s roommate the thing of wet dreams.

One drunken night, the pair crossed the line, quickly moving from friends, to something more. The physical side of their relationship grounded Dean, made him feel worthy of love – something he often struggled with, despite having Sam, Bobby, and Jody in his life. As much as Dean wanted to snark and posture that he didn’t believe in soulmates, there was something deep in his belly that craved that permanence and connection. To know that someone would love him more than anyone else for the rest of their lives.

Castiel was a theology student who wrote his entire senior thesis on the lie that was the soulmate bond. He and Dean lay awake for many an hour after their lovemaking, talking about the future. Castiel swore to Dean that he didn’t believe in soulmates and the notion that biology was going to overrule him and pit him with a complete stranger was preposterous. Dean chuckled at his boyfriend’s certainty, and began to feel comfortable enough to make plans for the future.

Although he would deny it to his dying breath, Dean spent several phone calls home talking to Jody, Bobby, and Sam about marrying Castiel. These plans especially picked up frequency after Dean learned that his eighteen-year-old little brother had found his soulmate: A new girl named Meg Masters, dark-haired, spunky, with a sarcastic streak to rival Dean’s own, had moved to Sioux Falls. Her first day of school she and Sam passed each other in the hall, their wings brushed against each other and latched on. In the moments the brothers talked alone, Sam would tell Dean it was the most amazing experience of his life and that he never could have imagined from the stories that it would be as intense and life-changing as it was. Dean would chuckle and threaten to braid his brother’s hair when he came home.

When Dean mentioned he was going to propose to Castiel before graduation, Jody finally voiced her concerns.

“Sweetie, I know you care a lot for Cas, hell we have come to think of him as part of the family, too,” Jody said, trying to find the right words to ease the sting. “But, you are still so young. People are finding their soulmates later and later in life. Don’t you think you should take some time? See a little more of the world? Start working and getting on your feet?”

Dean chuckled, touched by his adoptive mother’s concern. “I ‘ppreciate it, Jody,” he said, green eyes twinkling with muted happiness. “But, I love Cas and he loves me. Neither one of us much believes in soulmates. We are going to have a good life together – just like you and Bobby have.”

Jody sighed heavily into the phone, rubbing her forehead to ease the pressure building. She wanted to support her son, but at the same time, she didn’t want him to be set up for failure. In the end, her response could have been nothing other than, “Bobby and I love you, no matter what you decide, sweetie, you know that. And, if you say you are going to be happy marrying Cas, then we will be there with bells on to support you both.”

“Thanks, Jody,” Dean grinned, relieved to hear her acceptance. He had been prepared to face more resistance from her; after all, he knew just how much the idea of soulmates meant to her. “Listen, I’ve gotta run, I’m gonna meet Cas at the coffee shop to celebrate his thesis presentation. I’ll call you later and let you know when I’m gonna pop the question.”

Dean hung up, fixed his light brown hair and put on some cologne before grabbing his keys, wallet, and leather jacket and heading out to Cas’ favorite coffee shop. They had been celebrating every major milestone at this beanery since they first met. It was a short distance, so Dean decided to walk, whistling a jaunty tune as he went. Fate, for once, had decided to smile on Dean Winchester, maybe it was making up for taking his parents away so young; or for never showing him his soulmate. At this moment it didn’t matter because Dean was happy.

The green-eyed man was so caught up in his happiness that he didn’t notice what was going on in front of him at first…Until he ran smack dab in to the first person. Looking up, he saw a small circle of people had gathered. Oh great, he was here just when two soulmates had found one another. Dean always found it to be a curious custom that people seemed to stop and stare when a soulmate bond was formed. For the young Winchester, he thought this was a private moment, and if it happened in a public setting, people should respect that and move on, giving the new couple as much privacy as they needed; particularly because some meetings ended up in pretty spectacular sex, and Dean was not a prude by any stretch, but he wasn’t into live porno either.

He was just getting ready to shoulder past some of the crowd, when he heard a very familiar gravelly voice moan out, “Oh Jesus, _there_.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he found himself pushing past the gathered masses; and stopping dead when he took in the scene in front of him. There was Castiel – his boyfriend – letting a shorter, somewhat stout man enthusiastically fuck him in the middle of the street. As if that display was not painful enough, Dean had just enough presence of mind to notice that Castiel no longer had his wings – the large jet black appendages that tapered into a cerulean blue at the edges to match Cas’ eyes. What’s more, the other man didn’t have any wings either. So, it had happened, Cas had found his soulmate, and he had bowed to biology, or nature, or whatever force liked to fuck with people’s lives.

Tears sprung to Dean’s eyes, hot and salty. He felt betrayed. Part of him knew that he should not hold Cas to promises of a future that could never be; but another part of him felt his heart break. Once again, Dean was alone. Of course the universe didn’t have a soulmate for him. Who would want someone like Dean?

Stumbling away from the spectacle before he could be seen, Dean went back to his and Cas’ apartment and packed his essential things. He left a brief note explaining where he’d be, and then booked a cheap room at a nearby hotel for a few days, just to get him through until graduation had passed.

Of course, Castiel called him the next day and they met, this time at a different coffee shop, one not so steeped in memories. Cas explained how he was presenting his thesis when a visiting professor named Fergus Crowley came in to observe. In the middle of his presentation on why he believed soulmates were myths, Castiel felt his wings twitch and then pull him forward until he was tangled in with Fergus. The pair tried to make it to a hotel near the beanery, but the mating instinct had been too much…leading to the debacle Dean had witnessed.

“I am so, so sorry Dean,” Castiel said, regret in his tone, and unshed tears spiking his eyelashes, making his eyes seem even bluer. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I really did love you, but this is something I can’t even describe. I didn’t think it was possible to feel what I do for Fergus. He’s going to take me back with him to London so that we can continue to get to know one another.”

Dazed, Dean just nodded when he felt it was appropriate, but nothing really reached him. He felt disconnected from his emotions, almost as though he was watching everything from underwater.

After a fond hug goodbye, Castiel dashed off, eager to be back with his mate, leaving Dean well and truly alone. More alone than he had felt in his entire life. Everyone had someone…everyone but him. Sam had Meg; Jody had Bobby; now Cas had Crowley. No one stayed, not for long, not for Dean.

Suddenly, he didn’t want to deal with the pomp and circumstance of graduation. He went to campus and arranged to have his diploma mailed to Bobby and Jody, packed up what he needed and left. There was no destination in mind, he just wanted to put as many miles as possible between himself and Boston; there were too many ghosts lurking these streets.

He hopped in his car and just drove. Somehow, he found himself back in Kansas. It had been twelve years since he had been to his hometown, but now, he found himself driving up to Stull Cemetery. His feet were moving before he had given conscious thought to the action, and he found himself at the grave of John and Mary Winchester.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” he said aloud, feeling a little silly talking to a plot of earth, but not wanting to say these words to anyone else. “So, I graduated from college, top of my class actually. Got a degree in mechanical engineering, but I’m not quite sure what I’m gonna do with it. Guess I shoulda thought ‘bout that a little more before now.

“Found a guy that I was in love with, I think you woulda liked ‘im. He wasn’t my soulmate or an’thing, but he treated me well and we had a lot in common. I really thought I was gonna marry ‘im. I had the ring and all. Turns out I just wasn’t enough.”

As Dean voiced these words aloud, tears started streaming down his face. He had bottled up his emotions as tightly as he could after his initial shock wore off, but now, he was helpless against the torrent of his pain. Shoulders shaking, almost as though convulsing, as Dean tried to explain to his parents his loss, how much he missed them, how he just wanted his mother to hold him and tell him she loved him one more time.

Time passed, how much Dean never paid attention, until he was able to compose himself. He was Dean Fucking Winchester, he was not going to let something as stupid as soulmates destroy his life. He was going to go and make a name for himself; which is exactly what he did.

Dean moved to New York City and got a job with an engineering firm where he worked sixty and seventy hour weeks. He poured his lifeblood into his job, because it took some of the sting away from knowing there wasn’t anyone at home waiting for him. He had been burned by Castiel, and he vowed that he was not going to be a plaything, or a placeholder for anyone else ever again.

Castiel still called, and the friends would chat for a few minutes here and there, but nothing of substance. Dean gleaned that Castiel enjoyed living in London and that he and Crowley were so well suited in all ways. In some of their more recent conversations, Dean could tell that Castiel was unhappy Dean was burying himself in work, but the young Winchester abruptly cut off the call if it strayed into anything too personal.

Christmas came and went, and Dean couldn’t bring himself to go home. Jody and Bobby begged him to come back to Sioux Falls, but he claimed too much work. He Skyped with them on Christmas Day itself, as he did with Sam, but beyond basic pleasantries, he cut himself off. At the time, he didn’t want to feel anything. By the time the next Christmas came and went, he didn’t feel the same pull to go back home, it wasn’t home anymore. Then again, he really didn’t feel as though New York was home either. He felt unmoored, like a ship without a strong anchor.

He was twenty-four years old, sitting alone in a cramped apartment on Christmas Day. His career was going strong, but it didn’t fill that hole inside of him. Praise for a job well done didn’t fulfill the need for affection. Dean had always been a very tactile, loving person. He craved physical contact and positive caresses, something that not even Castiel understood during their relationship. Touch grounded him, not surprising for a young man who received twelve years of loving touches and gentle kisses from a wonderful mother.

By the time his third Christmas in New York rolled around, he guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see his younger brother on his doorstep, plane tickets in hand. He’d long since had the Impala transported back to Sioux Falls, no way was he going to risk damage to his Baby with the crazy New York drivers, and parking and storage fees in the City were astronomical. So, a plane was the only way to go back home.

With minimal grumbling and lots of alcohol, Dean found himself flying back to South Dakota, eager puppy of a younger brother bouncing in the seat beside him.

“I can’t wait for you to be at Christmas this year, Dean,” Sam enthused. “We’re gonna have such a great time. I’m so excited for you to meet Meg in person, and for you to be there when we tell Jody and Bobby they are going to be grandparents.”

Even through his alcohol addled mind, Dean caught Sam’s gaffe.

“Grandparents?” the older brother questioned, brow raising in curiosity. “Is there something you wanna share with the class, Sammy?”

“Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old, it’s Sam, now,” his brother deflected, cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

“Sure it is, _Sammy_ ,” Dean stressed, egging the younger Winchester. “So, do you wanna tell me something?”

“It’s a surprise,” Sam mumbled.

“Don’t think it’s going to be much of one now,” Dean said, grin lighting his face for the first time in what felt like ages. He was starting to warm inside, his tawny wings, with gold at the edges, fluttering excitedly.

“Shuddup,” Sam tried again.

Dean took advantage of still having his additional appendages to tickle his younger brother. Sam always had been particularly ticklish under his chin, and Dean exploited that weakness, not caring they were on a crowded airplane, filled with grumpy holiday travelers.

“St-st-sto-stop,” Sam stuttered out, trying to laugh quietly under his older brother’s assault. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk.”

“That’s all you needed to say, Sammy,” Dean said, satisfied smirk gracing his handsome face.

“We just found out, and we thought Christmas was the perfect time to share such good news,” Sam said, hazel eyes happy and shining.

“And that’s why you made the trip to get me no matter what?” Dean asked, already suspecting the answer, touched his presence could mean so much to his little brother.

“Wouldn’t dream of you not being there,” Sam said, puppy dog eyes earnest and begging.

Dean’s wings dropped in guilt. He felt like so many people had abandoned him, and here he was being a dick and abandoning his brother, the only blood family he had left.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around, Sammy,” Dean said, not daring to meet his brother’s gaze. “I’ve been a terrible older brother.”

“No you haven’t,” Sam automatically defended. “You just needed time.”

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed derisively. “I needed almost two years to pull my head out of my ass because I got dumped.”

“I’m sure it couldn’t be easy,” Sam consoled, nudging his shoulder against his brother’s. “I know that Cas meant a lot to you. I shoulda come out and got you before this.”

“Naw,” Dean said, rearranging his wings behind him, trying to get more comfortable. “I needed time to get myself back together.”

“And working yourself into an early grave is helping that goal?” Sam queried.

Dean closed his eyes and avoided the question. He was embarrassed by his actions, and he knew he would face more guilt once he got home.

When they landed, Dean found himself immediately engulfed in a monster hug from Jody, followed by one from Bobby. He could’ve sworn he saw tears glistening in the usually stoic older man’s eyes.

That night, they gathered together for a family dinner, with Meg, who regaled them with stories of her and Sam and their time so far at Stanford. Sam blushed from ear to ear when Meg told the story of finding out they were pregnant, something they weren’t able to keep secret until Christmas Day – not when Meg had to run from the table and make sweet love to the toilet bowl for an hour after smelling onions cooking for Jody’s spaghetti sauce.

After dinner, Dean helped clean up and then excused himself to go driving for a little bit. He had missed being behind the wheel of his Baby. New York’s public transportation was all well and good, but he missed the purr of the Impala’s engine under his feet. He drove around for about an hour and remembered a lot of good times growing up, and some not so great ones, too. For every bit of sweetness, there was a little bitter lurking behind the curtain, but the bitter didn’t seem to be as sharp as it once was.

Returning home from the drive found Dean in his position of resting his weary head on the worn steering wheel. He had separated himself from his family for far too long; he had hurt them as much as he hurt himself. Although he would never admit it to the kid, he was glad Sam dragged his sorry ass back.

The next day dawned bright and cold. Meg was feeling a little worn out, due to the morning sickness, and wanted to stay home. Sam, nervous mother hen that he was, didn’t want to leave her alone – even though she protested she would be with Bobby and Jody. Dean chuckled at his brother’s overprotectiveness, but felt a wistful tug when he saw how devoted they were to one another. Meg may be mouthy and snarky, but she adored Sam; she would put him in his place when she thought he was wrong, but she would fight tooth and nail to defend him from anyone else. Dean admired that, and felt his brother was in good hands.

Jody and Bobby were working on the Christmas Eve meal and declined all Dean’s efforts to help. Exasperated and feeling completely useless, he decided to get out of the house for a little while.

“Go down to the Roadhouse,” Jody told him, giving him a light swat on the shoulder. “Ellen’ll be thrilled to see you. Of course, she may threaten you with her shotgun since you’ve been gone so long; but, after that she’ll be thrilled.”

Dean shuddered to think of Ellen being mad at him. There had been a time he’d thought Ellen and Bobby would end up together: They were a good match, the gruff, older mechanic and the tough-talking, but open-hearted bar owner. In the end, Jody won Bobby’s heart, and Dean couldn’t be more pleased for his adopted father.

“Alright, I’ll get outta your hair,” Dean agreed. “Y’all need me to pick up anything while I’m out?”

“Crackers,” Meg croaked from the bathroom doorway. “And ginger ale. And salt and vinegar potato chips, and mint chocolate chip ice cream, and…”

“Text me,” Dean commented, backing slowly out of the door. “That way I won’t forget anything.”

Dean saw Sam mouth “thank you” as he turned to walk out of the cheery little home.

A few minutes later, he was pulling in to the parking lot of Harvelle’s Roadhouse, and was indeed looking down the barrel of Ellen’s shotgun once she saw him walk in the doors.

“Dean Winchester, where the hell have you been, boy?” she reprimanded, having the ability to scare the living piss out of him, and make him feel like he was an errant twelve-year-old boy again.

“Sorry ma’am,” Dean said, contrite in his absence.

“You best be sorry,” Ellen replied haughtily, putting the shotgun back behind the bar. “Now you come here and give me a proper greeting. Don’t you act all fancy because you’ve been up in New York.”

Dean had to grin at that. Trust Ellen to make sure he didn’t get too big for his britches. He walked over and gave the petite woman a monster bear hug, picking her up off the ground.

“That’s enough of that,” she said with a smile in her whiskey-rough voice. “You put me down now. Go sit yerself down and stay outta trouble. I’ll have Benny make you up a burger, just the way you liked it….extra bacon, extra onions.”

“Sounds good, Ellen,” Dean said, still smiling. “I ‘ppreciate it.”

He sat down and waited for her to put in his order. As he sat, he felt a strange itch in his wings, almost as though they were twitching, wanting to flap, or to fly. That was ridiculous, though, wings aren’t used for flight. He chalked it up to being tired and anxious at being back home after so long.

Within moments of taking his order, Ellen came out with the biggest, juiciest looking burger Dean had ever seen. It was a monster of a burger, on a toasted bun, dripping with cheese and bacon-y goodness. Dean felt his mouth water just looking at the burger. It wasn’t the fanciest sandwich he’d ever seen, but it looked to be the tastiest.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Dean moaned, a practically pornographic sound in the quiet Roadhouse.

“Careful, boy,” Ellen warned with a grin. “I might get jealous of you and a piece of meat.”

“Aww, that’s just wrong, El,” Dean said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You weren’t raised in a barn, boy,” the blonde woman snapped, throwing napkins down in his face. “Don’t act like you ain’t got manners, else I’ll call Jody on you.”

The soon-to-be twenty-five-year-old took the offered napkins and wiped his mouth, politely, like the professional engineer he was in real life.

“So who you say made these?” Dean asked, picking up the juicy burger for a second bite. “I don’t remember anyone by that name working here when I lived in these parts.”

“Benny,” Ellen said, filling up a glass with Coke for Dean to enjoy with his meal; she never served the Winchesters – or Bobby Singer – alcohol before six in the evening. “He was passing through these parts about a year or so ago; had some experience working at diners and asked for a job. His food is ten times better than what I used to serve, so I agreed to let him work here and stay in the apartment above. He’s been here ever since.”

“Gotta say, this is probably the best burger I’ve ever eaten,” Dean said, trying to keep from making more inappropriate noises in front of one of his maternal figures. Ellen grinned, seeing him struggle to contain his enjoyment.

“You should tell him that yerself,” Ellen said. “Hey Benny….someone wants to talk to the chef.”

“C’ming, ma’am,” a deep, southern voice called back. There was something about the voice, rich and dark like melted chocolate that sent shivers down Dean’s spine and caused his wings to twitch. He worked to control his reaction, but wasn’t as successful as he thought when he caught Ellen watching him with an appraising stare.

“Y’all right there, Dean,” she asked, a slight smile in her tone.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m fine,” Dean replied, although he was trying to subtly shift in his seat. That uncomfortable feeling in his wings was back, and seemed to be getting stronger. At this rate, he was going to have to leave before he finished his meal, just to get home and relax a little.

Trying to get back to enjoying his burger, Dean just took another bite when the kitchen doors opened and out stepped one of the most handsome men Dean had ever seen. Around the same height as Dean, or maybe slightly taller, burly and built with thick muscles, maybe a decade or less older than Dean with a short, wiry beard, and close cropped hair, the young Winchester’s mouth dropped open, and he barely remembered to swallow his food.

As soon as the man looked up and caught sight of Dean, his baby blue eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a silent “O” of surprise. It was at that moment that Dean noticed he was not only big in his body; his wings were enormous. They were easily the largest wings Dean had ever seen. His wings were a radiant gold with fiery reds, oranges, and yellows mixed in.

Dean had only a moment to fixate on the man before he felt himself moving. His feet never touched the ground; he was pulled by an unseen force toward this gorgeous chef, an electric current practically pulsing between the two of them, alive and searing. At the moment, Dean wasn’t aware of anything else. There could have been a hundred people in the Roadhouse, instead of just the three of them. There was a magnetic force drawing Dean to this man, and this man to Dean, for the attraction was not one-sided.

Within seconds, the two were twinned together, their wings curling around each other so tightly it was as though their feathers were woven in a tapestry. Dean felt his heart pounding rapidly, and he knew without a moment’s doubt that this man was his soulmate.

“ _Mon Coeur,”_ the older man, Benny breathed against Dean’s plush lips. “ _Tu est vraiment ici?”_

Dean went to shake his head, he didn’t understand the French from the Creole man in front of him. But, right when Dean went to answer, words no longer mattered. Benny leaned down and pressed his lips to Dean’s suddenly dry ones, and all of a sudden the room exploded in color. Dean jerked back from the electricity of the kiss and found he and this other man to be completely covered in feathers.

“Wow!” Dean exclaimed, his use of the English language suddenly escaping him.

He didn’t have a chance to say anything else before Benny dived back in and kissed him again. This kiss was hotter, hungrier, a clash of slick tongues and clicking teeth. It was a kiss that spoke of dominance and submission; of love and loss; of despair and hope – it was the most clichéd thing Dean could ever had thought up in his wildest fantasies, and it was absolutely perfect.

The two men were caught up in exploring each other’s mouths, while their hands were roaming, making sure the person in front of them was real – touching firm muscle and warm skin to seek assurance that it wasn’t a dream. As the embrace became more passionate and heated the two suddenly found themselves jerked apart as a bucket of ice water was dumped on their heads.

“That’s enough, you two idjits,” Dean’s cheeks flushed with extreme embarrassment as he saw Bobby standing there holding the bucket. The other man, Benny, did not seem amused by the distraction; he stepped in front of Dean, as though to protect his mate from an unknown threat.

“You stow that posturing bullshit from me, boy,” Bobby grumbled. “I don’t give two shits about biology. Y’all are going to go someplace private to take care of your ‘urges.’ I don’t need everyone in the town seeing my boy on display, here.”

Benny seemed to be able to pull himself together for just a moment, grabbing Dean by the hand and pulling him up the stairs to his small apartment.

“You boys be safe now, ya hear,” Ellen called wickedly up the stairs after them.

“Oh my God,” Dean groaned, head clearing for a few moments. “I’m never gonna live this down. I’ve become a stereotypical mate story. My family’s gonna have a field day.”

“Less talking, more kissing,” Benny growled, pushing Dean into the apartment and shoving him against the door, again devouring his mouth like a succulent treat.

It didn’t take long for the two to get caught up in one another again. They discarded clothes along the way, the short distance from the door to Benny’s bed.

Much later, when the pheromones had worn off slightly, the newly mated pair laid in bed. Benny was laying on his back, arm wrapped around Dean, who was nuzzled in to his chest. The pair were both sated and somewhat tired, but not really able to go to sleep.

“I had given up,” Benny admitted, trailing his hand down the smooth, freckled expanse of Dean’s now wingless back, causing goosebumps to erupt over each inch of skin his fingers came in contact with. “’very’ne says if yer not mated by thirty, ya ain’t got a chance. I be’ieved ‘em.”

Dean nodded, his nose tickled by the coarse hairs on Benny’s well-muscled chest. “Me, too. I didn’t want to believe in mates because I never thought I was gonna find me,” Dean admitted shyly. “I threw myself into work and tried to forget how lonely I was. I didn’t want to believe in the fairy tale because I knew it would never happen to me.”

“I ain’t no price trapped in a frog’s body, _cher_ ,” Benny snarked, pressing a kiss to Dean’s still damp hair.

“Well, that’s good,” Dean said, leaning up to kiss his mate’s lips properly. “’Cause I ain’t no princess that needs rescuing.”

The two men were silent for a moment, just holding each other and adjusting to the new feelings. Dean felt lighter, yet stronger, more secure without his wings. He felt as though a piece had been missing from his soul and was finally complete again, he guesses that’s what it means to have a soulmate. He smiled thinking of that.

“Whatta ya thinkin’ ‘bout, _mon amour_ ,” the Cajun drawled, lazily, sleep threatening to pull him under.

“I’m thinking about how this is crazy,” Dean said leaning up on an elbow to angle himself over Benny. “I’m thinking about how we barely know one another and yet I feel whole with you in a way I never could have imagined before.”

“Mmmm,” Benny hummed in agreement. “Havta say this is the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Shit!” Dean exclaimed, jumping up from his comfortable nest in Benny’s arms. “Shit, shit, shit. My family’s going to kill me, dude.”

“Slow down, sugar,” Benny advised, sitting up in bed as well, letting the white sheets pool around his lap, exposing just a hint of his naked hip. “What’s the rush?”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Dean said, as though it were perfectly clear.

“Yeah,” Benny drawled, “and I was enjoying my Christmas present just fine until it up and tried to run away.”

Dean blushed a fierce scarlet – he didn’t think he’d ever blushed as much as he had since meeting his mate – he wasn’t used to someone looking at him as though he were something valuable, something precious. Castiel would have warmth and affection in his eyes after they had sex, but this was different. This was devotion and security and home.

“My family is expecting me for Christmas,” Dean tried to explain as he put his underwear on backward in haste. “I haven’t been home in two years and my brother and his mate are having a baby and…”

“Dean,” Benny said, using his full name, which succeeded in capturing the green-eyed man’s attention, “breathe.”

The younger man sat back on the bed and tried to calm down; everything was happening so fast – how did people deal with this?

“The older gentleman who threw water on us earlier? That yer Daddy?” Benny asked, pulling his mate close again, their bond still new and craving close contact.

“My adopted dad, Bobby, yes,” Dean said, his bones relaxing and melding him back to Benny’s side.

“Then I think he knows what’s goin’ on, sugar,” Benny soothed, leaning up to nip a kiss to Dean’s neck, drawing a low moan from the younger man. “How’s about we stay here and finish our Christmas Eve celebration, then you take me home to meet yer folks for Christmas Day.”

Dean let himself be pulled back down, until he was laying on top on his mate, the love of his life, the best Christmas present of all, and every soulmate cliché he’d ever heard growing up.

Peppering small kisses along Benny’s chest, Dean murmured his agreement.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Dean sighed, reaching up to kiss Benny’s lips.

“A very merry Christmas, indeed.”

In the morning he’d wake to texts from his family congratulating him on finding his soulmate, and a pissed off text from a pregnant sister-in-law threatening to cut off his balls if he didn’t bring her a vanilla milkshake and fries when he brought her new brother-in-law home to meet the family. Yeah, fate finally decided to cut Dean Winchester a break, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from a line in the New Year's song Auld Lang Syne.  
> What do you think? As I was writing this, I was thinking there are more stories that could be told. Would you want more? Or is this a good place for our boys? This was out of my comfort zone, so I do hope you enjoyed. Please let me know if you like it. I love to hear from you. Happiest of holidays to all. Love you.


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